


Bad Habits

by humanveil



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Anal Sex, Infidelity, M/M, Referenced Joseph/Mary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 01:17:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11567289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: Robert is just like every other bad habit – satisfying, exhilarating,addictive– and Joseph is yet to learn how to say no.





	Bad Habits

**Author's Note:**

> i'm somewhere between regretting all of this and not regretting any of it. 
> 
> anyway, i kept thinking of this in my first play-through. i've only seen a little bit of these characters because i've only romanced Damien so far (which i recommend bc he's a cutie), but i had to write something. hope you like it!
> 
> edit: i finally got robert and joseph's endings and _oh my fucking god_.

Loud music plays throughout the pub, the beat seeming to reverberate throughout his chest. Others are spread around the room, clumped together in groups and watching whatever game plays on the screens overhead, their cheers sounding every now and then.

Joseph pays it no mind as he slips into a seat at the bar, a soft sigh escaping him as he settles on the stool. Neil gives him a surprised look, and Joseph can’t blame him. He knows it’s weird for him to be here instead of Mary, knows that he probably ought to be at home instead of her, taking care of the kids, but he’d needed a night off, and he has _some_ faith that she’ll manage.

And if she doesn’t, well. He’ll deal with it in the morning.   

Neil settles a glass in front of him without preamble, and Joseph smiles his thanks, sipping at the vodka laced sprite. It’s a rather tame choice, he thinks as he eyes the bottles lining the bar, but then he’d never been one to drink much. Nothing like his wife, at least.

He sips his glass and looks around the room, scanning the screens, the crowd. He sees some people he knows and waves politely when they spot him, but mostly he tries to make himself look busy to avoid any conversation. He wouldn’t under normal circumstances, but tonight he’d much rather be left alone.

His glass is near empty when a body settles on the stool next to him. Joseph doesn’t have to turn to know who it is, the distinct smell of cigarette smoke and the last hint of a far too familiar cologne tell him enough already.

“Hello, Robert.”

Robert grunts in greeting, his hands fixing the hem of his leather jacket as he gets comfortable. He nods to Neil, motioning for a refill of his own glass. “His too,” he adds, looking at Joseph.

Neil nods and turns to do as asked.

“I didn’t agree to that.”

“You look like you could use it.”

Joseph can’t really argue. He knows he most likely looks a wreck. The latest fight with Mary is still a fresh memory, the anger and sadness he’s been bottling up for months near boiling point. He sighs again, chin resting on his palm, and looks to Robert.

“And you?”

Robert lifts his shoulder in a half shrug as Neil places two glasses of whiskey in front of them. He reaches for his immediately. “I just like it,” he answers. His voice is low and gruff, the ligaments in his hand rippling as he lifts the glass to his lips, and Joseph tries not to stare at the movements of his throat as he swallows the amber liquid down.

He drops his gaze to the shining benchtop when Robert catches his eye, and takes a large gulp of his drink.  If he’s lucky, he’s sure he can blame the blush on the alcohol.

*

Hours pass in a blur. One moment Joseph is sitting at the bar, half listening to Neil and Robert discuss Robert’s latest cryptid hunt, and the next Robert is paying for their drinks and leading him out of the pub, a warm palm resting against the small of his back.

The sky is dark above, a half moon glowing in the distance and stars appearing every so often. Joseph wraps his arms around his torso at the cold, watching as Robert pulls a packet of smokes from his pocket. He pops the end of one in his mouth, offering the open packet in Joseph’s direction, and smirks when Joseph sends him a glare.

“You know I don’t smoke.”

“Wouldn’t hurt ya.”

“That’s exactly what it would do,” Joseph says. Even if it wouldn’t, Joseph could never let himself. Not after all the anti-smoking speeches he’s given the kids at the Youth Centre.

They set off down the road in a slow walk, their path illuminated by the glow of the streetlights and the odd store sign. It’s quiet mostly, but Joseph doesn’t mind. He knows Robert’s never been one for talking much.

“You never told me.”

“Told you what?”

“Why you were there,” Robert clarifies. He looks to Joseph from the corner of his eye and blows a long stream of smoke out into the air around them. “I usually see your wife.” It’s said with a smirk, one that’s almost sinister. Joseph bristles, and the smirk widens to a grin. “That’s it, then.”

“You know I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t know why you let it happen,” Robert continues, faking outrage. “Adultery’s a sin, isn’t it?”

Joseph stops in the middle of the sidewalk, looking at Robert with a furrow in his brow. There’s anger written on his face; frustration, too. “We have four children,” he says, and he’s said it the same way a thousand times by now. Defensive, irritated. Perhaps a little sad, too. “I can’t just walk away.”

Robert hums noncommittally and drops his cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it with the heel of boot. They start walking again, passing through familiar streets. “Seems like a shit reason to stay together.”

“Not everyone can abandon people as easily as you can.”

Robert snorts but doesn’t respond. It feels as if he’s touched on a sore subject, and Joseph almost regrets saying it, but it is true. He’s known Robert for years now, and the only person he’s seen stick around for more than a month is his child.

And Joseph himself, but Joseph doesn’t like to fixate on that fact too much.

They end up outside of the Robert’s house, the home barely visible in the low light. Robert looks at him like an invitation, and Joseph knows he shouldn’t. He knows what happens when you go up to Robert’s house, knows that he always regrets it come morning.

Usually, the memory of that regret is enough to make him walk away.

Tonight, is it not.

“Maybe you’re just as bad,” Robert says as they walk through his front door.

The words are a murmur, Robert’s breath hot against the back of his neck, and Joseph wishes he knew how to quit this. Wishes he had the willpower to stop coming back again and again, to stay away for good this time. But Robert is just like every other bad habit – satisfying, exhilarating, _addictive_ – and Joseph is yet to learn how to say no.

“Shut up,” he answers, voice a little more breathless than usual.

Robert laughs, his grin feral, and captures his mouth in a kiss that almost hurts.

*

Stumbling to the bedroom is like muscle memory. Robert strips him as they make their way through the dark hall, a trail of clothes being left in their wake. They barely let go of each other as they walk, their hands pulling and clutching at each other’s bodies, their lips moving together like a practiced art.

“Come on, pretty,” Robert grunts, pressing him down on to the mattress, and Joseph hates the nickname, really, but he can’t stop the loud moan, can’t stop the way his body reacts to the familiar touch.

Robert leaves small, damp kisses across his jaw and moves to nose at his neck. Teeth scrape against skin, and Joseph gasps softly. “No marks,” he reminds him, and Robert chuckles.

“Like she doesn’t already know.”

Joseph closes his eyes against the onslaught of guilt and chooses not to respond. A hand brushes over his cock through the soft cotton of his underwear, a rough palm curling around the length of his erection, and any thought that isn’t _oh_ or _more_ or _please_ leaves him immediately.

Robert works his hands over the shaft, his thumb brushing up the vein and across his slit. Teeth nip at Joseph’s earlobe, the tip of Robert’s tongue poking out to lick the shell. “You like that, pretty?”

Joseph whines, hips bucking up into the pressure of Robert’s hand. “ _Christ,_ ” he cries, body seeking more friction.

“I don’t think he’d approve much of what we’re doing,” Robert answers. He shifts above Joseph’s body and pulls the remaining clothing off, the fabric dropping to the floor with a quiet _ooft._ He shimmies down, gaze flicking to Joseph’s face. “Do you?”

Joseph isn’t given the chance to respond. Any words he may have said are cut off with a loud shout as Robert’s mouth closes around his cock, a wet, hot tongue swirling around the head and down the shaft. Joseph has to stop himself from bucking up, his hands clutching the white sheets of Robert’s bed.

Robert pulls off with a smirk and leans back over Joseph’s body to kiss him. “We could just do that if you want, pretty,” he murmurs, teeth scraping Joseph’s bottom lip. Joseph shakes his head in a miniscule movement, reaching up to kiss him again. “No? You’d rather I fuck you?” Robert drags his hand down Joseph’s torso, his nails scratching ever so slightly. He curls his arms around, grabbing handfuls of Joseph’s ass, and squeezes. “You want me to fuck you so hard that pretty little wife of yours has to ask why you’re walking funny?”

Joseph gasps, his back arching up into Robert’s touch. “ _Yes_.”

“Not the perfect little bible boy now, huh?” Robert lets go of him to reach for his bedside table, his fingers curling around a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms. He drops them on the bed covers and motions for Joseph to shift up, hands pulling the other man’s legs wide apart.

Joseph sits up against the few pillows of Robert’s bed and pulls his knees to his chest, feet flat on the mattress. His cock is hard against his stomach, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He watches Robert grab the bottle again, watches as he coats his fingers in the clear substance.

“Relax,” Robert grunts.

Robert works him open easily, one finger turning to two turning to three. He looks at Joseph’s face, enjoying the way he falls apart. The way his mouth opens wide and his eyes flutter shut, pathetic little moans escaping his lips with every hook of Robert’s fingers.

“You make such filthy noises,” Robert comments, pleased to see Joseph’s body jolt when his fingers brush his prostate. “If only the others could see you like this.”

He draws his fingers away when Joseph is ready and wipes his hand on his duvet before reaching for a condom wrapper. He tears it open and slides it over his cock, hand smearing more lube across his shaft to be safe, and then he’s on top of Joseph again, one hand holding the base of his cock as he guides it towards Joseph’s prepared hole.

He groans at the tight heat, the noise accompanied by a low whine. He gives Joseph a moment to adjust, his hips rocking gently. He kisses the other man, hands clutching on to his hips and holding tightly.

He starts off with irregular thrusts, trying to find that sweet spot, but works his way up to a rapid, unrelenting rhythm. Both Joseph and the mattress shake with every movement, the headboard banging against the wall. Fingernails scratch along his back, Joseph’s manicured hands leaving long, pink lines across his flesh. He kisses him again, kisses his jaw, his neck, whatever he can reach of his chest.

“I’m the only one who fucks you like this, aren’t I, pretty?” He whispers the words like a secret, his mouth hovering above Joseph’s ear. Sweat drips down his face, his neck. Joseph licks it off his skin. “You’re always so desperate to be fucked,” he continues. “So needy. How long’s it been since anyone else touched you, hm?”

Joseph cries out, pressing into every one of Robert’s movements. He doesn’t answer Robert’s questions – never does – but he doesn’t need to. Robert knows he’s the only one Joseph does this with. Knows he’s the only one Joseph’s would trust enough to do this with.

He still can’t decide if it’s a good thing or not.

“I think I’ve left some bruises, pretty,” he tells him, faux sympathetic. “What’s your darling wife gonna say when she sees you’ve been a bad boy?”

Joseph groans, his eyes squeezing shut. His hold on Robert’s shoulders tightens, his nails leaving faint, purple coloured marks, the touch almost breaking skin. Robert bites down on the junction where Joseph’s neck meets his shoulder, his teeth leaving behind a bright red mark he soothes with his tongue.

“Look at you,” Robert grunts, hand sliding between their bodies to curl around Joseph’s cock. “Getting off on it. You love it, don’t you? Knowing how wicked you’ve been. How sinful.” Robert moves his hand to match his thrusts, his lips gliding over Joseph’s closely shaved jaw line. “I know you’re close, pretty. I want you to scream for me.”

With a prefect twist of his hand, Joseph comes. He does scream, the noise muffled as he bites down on Robert’s shoulder, his teeth no doubt leaving behind a bruise. His body convulses with the force of is, Robert fucking him through it with merciless thrusts. Joseph’s body clenches around his cock once, twice, three times, and Robert groans too, body stilling as he comes.

They stay there for a moment, intertwined as they are, their chests moving rapidly as they pant. The only sound is their heavy breathing and a car passing outside, is the wet, soft press of lips as Robert leans down to kiss him one last time before pulling out and taking care of the mess.

Once clean, they roll onto their backs, Robert’s blanket twisted around them.

“I told you not to leave marks,” Joseph says, but he doesn’t sound upset.

Robert snorts and moves closer. “Leave when you’re ready, pretty.”


End file.
